by Lacey Kane
“You’re lying to me.” In a single move, he had me flat on the floor of the van, my breasts trapped beneath me and his thighs spreading my legs wide.
There was no carpeting, just cold metal beneath my bare, overheated, slick-with-sweat skin as he ground his hips down against me. Every little move he made put more pressure on my sex, on my breasts, and in no time at all I was writhing beneath him and moaning like a five dollar whore at confession. Against my will, my cunt tightened and started convulsing over the vibrator, and my breasts felt heavy and full and desperate, and I rocked with the force of the orgasm.
I lost track of what was happening to me, still roiling from that last climax, until my legs were being lifted up into the air behind me. “What…what are you doing?”
“Getting you ready for the next bit. Unless you’re still planning to lie to me some more. You want to come again a time or two this weekend?”
God yes, I did. But I didn’t want him to know that. “Fuck you.”
“Oh, you will. Don’t worry about that.”
Something leather came around my ankles and fastened into place, and he spread my legs wide. I had to put my hands down to the floor to keep my balance, and to keep all my weight from being suspended by my ankles. I heard locks clicking into place, and I was hanging upside down from the roof of the van. My hair trailed around my fingertips…until my arms were yanked up. Bradford jerked my wrists behind my back, and the cold metal of handcuffs fastened around them and ratcheted into place.
“You asshole!” I tried to jerk my hands free, but that only made my body flail around and put more pressure on my ankles. Not a good idea. I made a decided effort to be as still as possible, in order to avoid pain.
“I’d be careful if I were you, talking about assholes…unless you want me to fuck you in yours.”
Bradford’s voice sounded so cold, so detached. Like this wasn’t getting him off. I knew it was, though, because I’d felt how hard his cock had been. He was a sick, depraved bastard, and he intended to do sick, depraved things to me.
And I was going to let him. Not because I was tied up and had no choice—it had sounded pretty clear that if I insisted I didn’t want this, he’d stop—but because I was just as sick and twisted and depraved as he was. I mean, how else would you explain the flood of wetness coating my sex that only continued to grow? I was getting off on it.
“Fine,” I grumbled. Maybe if I stopped fighting, if I cooperated, he’d let me down and then get me off again.
“Fine what?” His fingers were at my sex, dipping inside and pulling the vibrator out. “Fine, I can fuck your ass?”
“No!” I reacted so strongly that my body jerked again. I had to stop doing that, because it hurt my ankles to no end. “Fine, I like it. I want this.” I was about to add, “But not the hanging upside down by my ankles part,” but he didn’t give me the chance.
He bent down at my side, shoved the vibrator inside my mouth, and fastened some sort of contraption around my head to hold the damned thing in place. Thank goodness I knew that vibrator had come from home, because I could taste my sex juice, and I did not like the idea of having another woman’s sex juice in my mouth, even if it was mixed with mine.
That squicked me out about as much as anal. Almost. Maybe.
Equally as important as that was the fact that this one was small. I wouldn’t gag on it, I could breathe with it in my mouth…but it wasn’t going down my throat.
I had to appreciate the little things, given my current predicament.
A light came on in the back of the van and for the first time, I could see him…and the stuff all around me. He had to be well over six feet tall, all solid muscle. But even more terrifying than Bradford’s size, the van was filled with all sorts of crazy contraptions—stuff you’d expect to see in one of those BDSM clubs or something else equally kinky and perverted. Whips, chains, black leather. All sorts of stuff I’d never seen before and didn’t want to think about.
No way in hell was I ready for this, unless I was the one doling it out. But I’d already agreed. And I was hanging from the roof of a moving van—not exactly in the best position to dole anything out. All I could do was take whatever he—they—decided to give me, and hope to hell I liked it. Or at least that I didn’t hate it.
How the fuck did I end up in a situation like this, anyway? My money was on Dustin being fully behind it, and if that was the case, he’d pay come Monday at work.
Bradford got all my attention again, though, when he kneeled before me with these clear cups of some sort. He put one over my right breast and settled it firmly in place. Then he attached a hose-like thing to the end and squeezed a bulb, and it was like it was trying to pull my nipple through the hose.
I hissed in a breath around the dildo in my mouth, but he kept the thing going until my whole tit was swollen inside the cup. Then he repeated the process on my other breast. But he had another cup, and I was pretty sure I knew where he intended to put that.
I tried to squirm away, but I couldn’t move or say anything. All I could do was hang there, upside down, and let him.
Bradford stood up, ignoring my protests. His mouth came down over my sex, and he sucked and slurped until my hyper-sensitive clit made itself known. Then he pinched it, hard, with something that he left in place while the cup came down over my entire pussy area—labia, clit, all of it.
When all the air was suctioned out of it, and I felt like my entire cunt was going to explode from the crazy pressure, he disconnected the hose and set it on the table. Then he started playing a porno on the computer screen, hit the lights, and left me hanging with nothing to do but watch.
I guess he went up to the front of the van. I don’t know. I was too busy looking at the chick tied in place, on all fours, sucking on a monster cock while a fucking machine reamed both her nether holes and another dude spanked her with a paddle.
I’d never been into watching porn. Alex couldn’t get enough of the stuff, and since we got together, he’d tried on multiple occasions to get me to watch it with him. Maybe he was just showing me the wrong flicks or something, though, because despite myself, this was getting me off. I’d never felt so wet or horny in my life as I did watching two men abuse this chick…watching the way she got off on it. She sure as hell didn’t think it was abuse, with the crazy orgasms that seemed to come one right on top of the other, and the way she was squirting.
I’d always thought female ejaculation was a myth. But there it was, right before me, while I hung upside down in a moving van.
Holy fuck, this was nuts.
By the time the van rolled to a stop, the chick on the screen had had at least four screaming orgasms, and I was on the verge of one.
The van rocked, and then both doors slammed closed. And then all I heard was voices. Male voices. Lots of males voices.
I couldn’t make out how many there were, but it had to be at least three or four. For all I knew, there could be a dozen or more. But with me still hanging from the roof in the back of the van, I couldn’t make out what any of them were saying.
When the back opened, I was yet again blinded by the setting sun so I couldn’t make out what was going on. Two men climbed in with me, Bradford and someone else. The other guy put a blindfold over my eyes while Bradford attached some sort of leather cuffs to my wrists, replacing the handcuffs. Then they released my ankles from above, leaving the cuffs on them, and carried me out while all the blood in my body rushed back to where it belonged.
They didn’t carry me very far, but I still had no clue where I was—just that I was outside somewhere and no longer in the van.
When they sat me down, my bare ass was on something hard and rough, right on the edge of it. One of them immediately spread my thighs wide and bent my knees, locking my ankles into place somewhere out almost beside my hips so that my sex was wide open for anyone to see. The other pushed me back until I was lying down on whatever it was. He stretched my arms up above my head and locked them into
place as well.
It smelled like the woods, all piney and fresh, so I could only imagine I was strapped to a picnic table. The sharp bits digging into my ass and various places along my back would seem to confirm that—it was a very old, very used, and likely very dirty picnic table. For a second, I worried about being seen, but that didn’t last long. I needed all of my focus on what was happening to me, not on the variables that could potentially be taking place.
They took the suction cups off my breasts and cunt, and I nearly screamed around the vibrator shoved in my mouth. Being upside down all that time had been nothing. The way my blood was trying to redistribute itself, all racing into those highly sensitive areas at once, was almost more than I could take.
Then one of them toyed with my clit, which still had something pinching against it. I shook my head, moaning into my gag, but it didn’t do any good. They released the clip thing, and then I did scream.
I felt swollen, raw, achy, tingly…like I’d done nothing but fuck, fully aroused, non-stop for a solid month.
Not that I’d ever done anything like that before. But this is how I imagined it would feel. Like I couldn’t possibly have sex again for at least a week or I’d fall over from the pain of it, and yet I couldn’t imagine doing anything but having more sex.
Then I heard Bradford’s voice while something rained down over my stomach. “Use condoms when you’re in her cunt. We’ve got more where that came from. For every time you fuck her pussy, you’ll earn a night in the shelter. Every time you fuck her throat, you’ll earn a meal. Got it?”
The murmurs of assent were enough to have me panicking, but then I realized what it meant. Nights in a shelter? Meals? These had to be homeless men. Likely very dirty homeless men. I couldn’t let unwashed cock inside me, condom or no. The thought gave me the heebie-jeebies like I couldn’t explain. I squirmed, but with my ankles and wrists locked in place, there wasn’t anywhere I could go. Every time I moved, the splintery parts of the table dug into my flesh more.
Then two hands took my breasts in a bruising grip and squeezed hard, which left me breathless. “You’re doing a great service to these men, Marina. You should try to enjoy it.” It wasn’t Bradford, so I could only guess it was the driver.
Either way, I stopped struggling because it hurt too much to do otherwise.
The strap holding my gag in place was loosened, and the vibe was pulled out of my mouth. Before I could brace myself, a huge cock thrust balls deep into my sex. I cried out from the pain of it, but couldn’t cry out for long. The table shifted, and a man straddled my chest, and the heat from his cock nearly scalded my lips when he pushed inside.
They were both grunting and thrusting, and the thought of the how dirty the man in my mouth must be had me close to puking. All the while, hands kept groping my tits, and another man shoved his cock between my hands for me to stroke.
With a shout and a thrust that felt like it should topple the table, the man fucking my pussy finished. No sooner had he pulled out than he was replaced with another cock.
“These guys never get to fuck a hot bitch like you,” Bradford said, right by my ear. “So you’ll fuck them, and you’ll find a way to like it if you want to be allowed to come sometime this weekend.”
The man in my mouth shot his load deep into my throat, a massive, sticky mess of cum that kept coming and coming. I choked and gagged, but I managed not to drown in it. And again, as soon as he cleared away, another man came along and replaced him.
I moaned, and then Bradford was back in my ear.
“You’ll like this, bitch, and they’re going to keep fucking you until you do. You know how I’ll know when you start liking it? When you come.”
I was all prepared to start the best fake-out orgasm of my life when he grabbed me by the hair.
“Don’t you dare fake it, bitch. Don’t you fucking dare. I’ll know it, and then I won’t make them stop until you’ve swallowed a gallon of homeless dude cum, and you’re covered in the stuff, and you’ve come for real at least a dozen times.” Then he chuckled. “And trust me, that is very tempting anyway. It’s an idea that has some serious merit, Fuck Toy.”
Fuck Toy. He’d called me Fuck Toy. And he’d called me bitch.
And it had turned me on. So had his pulling my hair.
Oh, hell. I might be more of a slut than I realized.
After about six guys had spilled their cum in my mouth, I stopped smelling the sweat on their bodies and thinking about homeless guy filth being inside me, and started just smelling the musk of sex. And at that point, every grunt, every slap of flesh on flesh, every smack on one of my tits, every time one of them dug his fingers into my hips to drive into me harder—all of it started to really get me off. Bradford had been right.
I did like it. Which was just all kinds of sick and twisted. A hot spurt shot down my throat and I swallowed greedily while the man ramming into my pussy thrust into me so hard I was sure I’d be bruised. A new cock pushed between my lips before I’d finished swallowing all the cum, and a stream dribbled out of my mouth and down my cheeks.
Another thrust from each cock, and the walls of my sex started to clench and shudder. Then another, and I panted for air. Another, and I squealed around the dick in my mouth and my toes curled, and I exploded from the inside out.
The blindfold ripped free from my eyes while the two cocks continued to shove into me. I blinked in the setting sun, then the men around me came into focus. Big men. Muscular, sculpted, well-groomed but sweaty men…but they all looked like athletes, not dirty, grungy homeless men. With bone-crushing force, the guy fucking my sex finished and shouted out loud, but the one in my mouth was just getting into a rhythm.
I turned my eyes to the side and caught sight of Bradford, who bent down beside my head and whispered in my ear. “I lied. They’re not homeless. They’re the university water polo team. But you’re such a fucking whore bitch that you got off on the idea of dirty, stinking homeless men gangbanging you.”
I couldn’t do anything but gurgle against the long dick forcing its way down my throat and blink at him. A few minutes later, he picked up his tempo, taking my head between both his hands, and then shot a stream of cum deep down my throat column.
When he got off me, most of the men pulled their clothes on again and left, walking off into the darkening forest surrounding us. Bradford and one other man remained behind, and I remained attached to the picnic table, struggling for breath.
“You did well for the first bit of your training,” Bradford said. “This is my partner, Davis. For the remainder of the weekend, you’ll call me Master and you may call him Sir. You’ll do exactly as you’re told as soon as you’re told. And you’ll come only when we want you to come. Is that clear, Fuck Toy?”
There he went with calling me Fuck Toy again. Instead of answering him, I just glared.
Davis moved closer to me and slapped me on the cheek. “Answer him, bitch.”
After the sting lessened, I bit off, “Yes.”
I didn’t even have time to blink. Davis whipped something out of his back pocket and it zapped me on the tit. “Yes what?” The electric current went straight through me, leaving me shaking and breathless. He zapped my other nipple and then my clit, and was heading back toward the first breast again.
“Yes, Master!” I somehow got out as I gasped for air.
Bradford gave a tiny nod and backed away from the table and out of my line of sight. Davis, however, remained exactly where he had been…leering down at me, his sadistic brown eyes raking over my body while the zapper remained in his grip, hovering over my naked form.
I couldn’t take my eyes off of it. I just stared at that thing that looked like an orange wand, dreading the next moment it would touch my skin.
But instead of the zapper, his mouth came down over my breast and his hot teeth bit into my swollen nipple, and I couldn’t possibly stop the scream that came out of me.
My throat was raw and scratchy by the time the screa
m died off, and I sounded hoarse…like a crazy, husky bedroom sort of voice. Even though I couldn’t possibly scream any more, Davis didn’t stop suckling and biting my breast.
I squirmed, but there wasn’t any way to get away from his torture. The more I moved, the harder he attacked. After a minute, I stopped fighting and tried to lay limp, hoping the assault would come to a stop.
But then I felt the shadow of Bradford coming up next to me again on the other side, and before I could prepare myself he was doing the same thing to the other breast…and I was writhing beneath their efforts again, despite the splintery bits of the picnic table driving up into my back more with every movement I made.
Their hands were down between my thighs, fingers delving into my aching pussy and pressing against the tight pucker of my ass, rubbing and pinching and squeezing my clit. I moaned and rocked my hips, which pushed a digit inside my anus—and then I screamed. Once it was past the sphincter, he twisted and turned that finger, forcing it deeper and stretching that opening unnaturally.
Just when I thought I might actually be starting to enjoy what they were doing to me, as crazy as that may seem, they stopped. Their mouths left my tits, their hands left my sex, and I was left wanting.
I tried to crane my neck to see what would happen next, but I couldn’t really tell. They’d both moved down to the end of the picnic table between my wide-spread thighs. Something pressed against my pussy lips and then moved inside. It felt like a dildo, but it was coated with something thick and extremely sticky, so it didn’t glide inside me very well despite how insanely wet I was. Even as it continued moving deeper inside me, something else pressed against my asshole and moved inside, also coated with the same thing.
They moved both of them around in me, delving deeper and touching every part of me they could reach until the substance was covering my insides. When they pulled them free of my body, a slurping pop sounded.
